who would rival or approach the old masters. He has aimed at universality; and in one sense at least he has attained it, for there is no peculiarity of costume, natural developement, or subject, which can prevent these works from being understood by any people and at any epoch.

We hail the production of models distinguished by this characteristic, as the strongest proof that can be given of an enlarged and truly liberal taste. The second and third of the motives which have actuated us is, that these are the only native pieces of sculpture that have lately come under our observation; and that as the student begins his career by the study of classic works of this kind, the attention of connoisseurs should be turned first to their contemplation.

Vanderlyn's picture of the Landing of Columbus next claims our notice; for, independent of the nature of the subject, it is eminently worthy of the place for which it was designed-we mean the capitol at Washington. Representations of this sort do not admit of that great general beauty we have admired in the preceding works, and accordingly they have less affinity with the more lofty poetry of art. They are characterised necessarily by much of the individuality of portrait painting, though elevated by the wide scope they afford for delineation of passion, character, and historical circumstance. The costumes, too, are those of a particular epoch, and frequently both ungraceful and unnatural. But such productions are at least secondary in the scale of intellectuality. The choice of subject has been exceedingly happy, as regards this picture. The able painter who selects such noble themes, almost identifies himself with the personages he represents-sharing in their dangers, their difficulties, and their glory. What can be more lasting in the memory of man, than the discovery of the American continent-an event fraught with such numberless influences upon the happiness and welfare of the world-which has opened to the impoverished and overpopulated countries of Europe, a thousand new avenues for enterprise, industry, and talent, and to the oppressed of all lands, a refuge and a home.

A work of art, representing worthily an event of such magnitude as this, necessarily partakes of much of its interest and immortality. The picture of which we speak, is a highly creditable and masterly production. Columbus and his officers have just landed, and form a well considered group in the foreground. The face and figure of the admiral are full of expression, and beautifully drawn.

His head is raised to heaven with a look of joy and gratitude at having at length found land; in his left hand he holds a banner, on which are painted the cognizance of Castile and Aragon, with the initials of Ferdinand and Isabella; and in his right hand is a sword, pointed to the ground. This figure is in every respect unexceptionable; but of the others in the group, we cannot speak in such favorable terms, two or three of them being rather defective in drawing, and in some places entirely devoid of contrast. The painter has certainly obeyed the rules of art in the pre-eminence he has given the hero, both as regards position and coloring; and it was probably in accordance with an opinion entertained by many able writers, the late Mr. Haydon, for instance, "that the repetition of line the principal figure makes, is the secret of all beautiful arrangement and quantities," that there is so little variety of position. It is remarkable, however, that none of the other persons introduced, give one upward look of thankfulness. Behind

this

group are several more of the crew arriving on the sands, which they examine with avidity, in the vain expectation of finding pieces of

gold. This conveys an idea of the spirit which has actuated hosts of adventurers in visiting our shores. To the right we have, apparently, the entrance to a thick forest, crowded with naked aborigines, and this suggests at once the difficulties and dangers that would beset the party were they to trust themselves, ignorant of the country, in its labyrinths. The various incidents which might naturally have been expected to arise on the occasion are accurately portrayed; and, as the distant sun spreads its mellow light upon the different groups and surrounding objects, we have a pleasing effect of atmosphere, which gives a faithful impression of one of the most charming phases of our cliThe coloring is warm and subdued, though it must be allowed, that it is neither so rich nor agreeable as that of many still more sombre historical pictures we have seen. There are evidences, also, throughout the work, of its being "laboured." We have given but a hasty and imperfect sketch of this picture. We are highly gratified with it altogether; and as no effort of genius can be pronounced absolutely perfect, our readers will readily believe us when we state, that the few exceptions we have mentioned, do not very materially affect its general character.

The annual distribution of the American Art Union, which took place during the past month, is so interesting an event to all lovers of the fine arts in this country, that we should be remiss in our duty were we to pass unnoticed the many creditable and valuable works of which its exhibition was composed.

Nothing can be more repugnant to our feelings, than to treat with undeserved neglect any effort of the painter; and we therefore premise, that we shall be guided in our selection simply by the comparative facilities these pictures may afford for the illustration of those great principles which, in accordance with the spirit of our previous remarks, we should endeavour to sustain.

He seems to

We have long admired the works of Mr. Huntingdon. have studied in a good school; and though he has not reached the climax of grace and beauty, his style is certainly of an elevated order.

Possessing more knowledge of the human figure than distinguishes most of our native artists, and a comprehensive grasp of mind, he is well qualified to paint historical, religious, and even allegorical subjects. The picture entitled "Alms Giving," presents many of his best characteristics. In this composition we have three figures, each admirable of its kind. Two mendicants, (an old man and probably his daughter) are seated together, apparently by the road-side, the one bowed down with age and hopeless despoudency, and the other looking up with an expression, half imploring and half grateful, at a female, simply and gracefully attired, who is in the act of giving her a piece of money.

agree

The features of this impersonation of charity are beautiful, but the effect is greatly enhanced by the sympathetic amiability of her countenance. The drapery is easy, natural, and in a word, universal, and the entire effect of colouring consistent, warm, and able. The male figure, and some few of the accessories, remind us of Reynold's Holy Family, in the National Gallery of England; but it must be understood, that these are the only points that seem any wise deficient in originality. What sombre, and yet sweet reflections are suggested by pictures of this nature? We behold, on the one hand, the traces of poverty and suffering, which lead us to inquire into the probable early causes of such extreme misery, and on the other, evidences of beauty, grace, and benevolence, which carry us in

fancy to the fireside of virtue, innocence, and comparative affluence. What variety and yet what harmony! Such productions as these, are at once as real and poetical as

"A garland of sweet flowers-some bright

Some sad; like-life, made up of smiles and tears."

The "Lesson on the Immortality of the Soul," by Mr. Luther Terry, is distinguished by many beauties of composition, and this is very high praise, for it wou'd naturally call into play some of the most intellectual powers of the artist. A fine boy, about nine years of age, resting partially on the lap of a female, regards her with lively curiosity and surprise, whilst she looks down upon him with interest; her right hand pointing to heaven in explanation of one of the most ennobling truths of Christianity. We do not, however, admire as enthusiastically as some persons, either the outlines or coloring of this work. The subject would undoubtedly have admitted of the utmost ideal beauty of form, instead of which, we have simply one of its gradations. The figures seem to have been drawn almost entirely from living models, and although divested, in a great measure, of individuality, do not approach as near perfection as we could have desired. The coloring, too, is rather defective, being neither sufficiently subdued nor pleasing. There is something, however, in the style of Mr. Terry, which reminds us of the works of the artist previously named. Their modes of thought, if we may judge from this picture, are very similar, and both give promise of great excellence.

How varied and popular are the subjects afforded by the history of the Revolution of '76! The painting by J. B. Stearns, of Ethan Allen, demanding the surrender of Ticonderoga, is one that would be highly appreciated by any patriotic American. The stern and bold countenance and figure of the soldier of liberty, as, with one hand raised to heaven, and the other grasping his sword, he announces his authority to be from God and the Continental Congress, transcend all praise, whilst those of the British officer, who has just risen from bed, lose but little in comparison. The coloring is warm, sombre, and appropriate; but two or three of the subordinate figures in the back ground are decidedly inferior, as regards drawing and position.

The "Old Man's Lesson," by Mr. Durand, is pervaded by much of the poetry of landscape painting. What can be more truly poetical in this style of art, than the design of this picture? The evening sun is setting, and throws a mellow, subdued tint of gold over one of the most charming scenes that can be contemplated in nature. In the foreground, rippling gently on its course, is a shallow stream, across which is thrown, as it were by accident, the trunk of an old tree. At one end of this same tree, sits an old man addressing a child, as he points to the weeds and flowers before him. Here are these two beings, the one just buddiug into life, the other ou the borders of eternity. They are all alone-no sound to disturb his reveries, but the simple prattle of that innocent child. To the right is an over-spreading tree, so admirably true to nature, as almost to complete the amount of deceptiveness which would lead us to fancy ourselves on the spot; and in the distance, browsing upon the bills, are some erratic cows, which the spectator must invariably regard as amongst the most natural objects in the composition.

The domestic scene, entitled "Winter Evening," by Mr. T. H. Matteson, is remarkably well drawn.

The figure in the corner, which intervenes between the spectator and the

fire-place, afforded an opportunity of which the artist did not fail to avail himself, to produce an excellent effect of light and shade. The grouping of the children is good, but the coloring on the different faces seems rather too cold and white. We do not exactly know how to account for it, but certain it is that this picture recalls to memory Burns' poem of the Cotter's Saturday Night. The same love, doubtless, of the simple charms and social enjoyments of humble life, actuated both painter and poet; but we miss the good housewife and the blooming and bashful maid, so vividly portrayed by the latter. Pictures of this kind belong to a school, of which Sir David Wilkie may be said to be the head and founder. There is a wide field for the display of genius in their treatment. They approach nearly to those of the Dutch painters, but are somewhat more elevated; the chief object not being mere mechanical finish, nor minute individual representation, but to embody the poetry of the affections, as seen in the cottage of the farmer and peasant. The admirers of epic and dramatic painting may look down with indifference, if not contempt, upon works of this order; yet the subjects are well worthy the highest species of talent that can be devoted successfully to them. Gray, Goldsmith, and Burns, did not disdain them, and why should the limner? As we have said before, there is beauty in every department of art, and this has its peculiar merits of brilliant execution, and of sentiment, and character, as appertaining to a class which may be found all the world over, though attired, it must be confessed, in divers national costumes. To the benevolent man of genius there can be no task more congenial than to depict the varied phases of humble life, teaching a lesson and a moral to the favored ones of the earth. Wilkie, himself, has invested the cottage of the peasant with a thousand charms of which it had not hitherto appeared susceptible, and much yet remains to accomplish. The pencil which painted the "Blind Fiddler," and the pen that wrote the following well remembered lines, were surely guided by the same poetic and philanthropic spirit:

"Let not ambition mock their useful toil,
Their homely joys and destiny obscure;
Nor grandeur hear with a disdainful smile,

The short and simple anuals of the poor."

We have said much of the poetry of art, but were we to treat every subject which comes under that denomination, we should far transgress the limits of this article. The choice of theme, is, however, so important to the character of a picture which aspires to the beautiful, of whatever kind, that we shall make some remarks showing the necessity of giving it due consideration. As regards landscapes we speak more particularly. A locality should not only be interesting from historical association, or celebrated as the scene of some remarkable domestic event, or curious from antiquity, but should be distinguished by beauties perfectly independent of these causes for selection, in order to be worthy of the painter. We have an admirable illustration of our meaning in Mr. Cole's picture of the arch of Nero, which forms part of the aqueduct near Tivoli. What in the name of good taste is there of the beautiful in this arch, or in the landscape? We have never seen anything worse adapted to pictorial effect. Usually, in works of this description, we have at least some vestiges of architectural beauty, but here there is nothing of the sort. A huge pile of unmeaning red bricks forms the chief object, which is varied, to be sure, by an old bridge, some distant hills, and in the foreground, an abundance of rich, green foliage. To make a pleasing picture from this would have required greater powers than even the best landscape painters possess. Most assuredly Mr. Cole might, with at least one-half the labor and talent he has here evinced, have produced a work infinitely more agreeable. It is valuable, certainly, as an exact transcript of the spot, but no

thing more, and cannot fail to give those who are unaware of the great difficulties he had to contend with, an unfavorablé impression of the painter's really" great abilities. Another very important principle which this work suggests to us as being necessary to impress upon the mind of the reader, is, that however beautiful may be the execution of particular parts, unless the general effect be harmonious, the picture is far less valuable than if some of these were neglected, to the advantage of the general effect. In looking at each particular object here, we find the execution bold, and the coloring rich, but the picture, regarded as a whole, is sadly deficient. This may have been owing to the local difficulties presented by the subject, but it is probably as much in consequence of a confused idea of light and shade.

There are some painters, though we should hardly suppose Mr. Cole to be of them, who, knowing that nature is always beautiful, and yet unable to classify her varied charms, commit great errors by an illiberal choice of subject, and limited knowledge of the beauties of style. To these we would say, in the words of the poet, to choose the golden mean,

"Nor yet to nature such strict homage pay,
As not to quit when genius leads the way,
Nor yet though genius all his succour sends,
Her mimic powers though ready memory lends,
Presume from nature wholly to depart,

For nature is the arbitress of art.

In error's grove ten thousand thickets spread,
Ten thousand devious paths cur steps mislead.
'Mid curves, that vary in perpetual twine,

Truth owns but one direct and perfect line."

Had the painter duly considered the principle contained in these lines, he would, probably, never have begun this heavy, and, despite the locality it represents, uninteresting landscape. The chief characteristic of this work is the boldness of the execution; but the opacity of the clouds would lead us to infer, did we not know the contrary from an examination of several of Mr. Cole's previous pictures, that he has yet much to learn of the ars celare artem, and that he is devoid of refinement of thought.

The visitors to the exhibition of last year will have remembered Mr. Deas' picture of the "Death Struggle," which is one of the most spirited and effective works ever hung upon its walls. This painting displayed powers of a very high order, and the admiration it elicited was general and enthusiastic. The same artist shortly afterwards produced one entitled the "Oregon Pioneers," which was so inferior as to have led us at first to doubt that it was executed by him. There has seldom been a more lamentable falling off. This work has been treated in the most careless, and certainly not the happiest style of the painter. The coloring is gaudy, and the composition devoid alike of that species of grace and character that we might naturally have looked for in the treatment of this subject. The faces appear to have been drawn from one model, and that a somewhat unmeaning one. The poney introduced, which is partially hid, is, with the exception of the head, remarkably defective. The artist has carefully concealed the legs and feet in order to avoid the trouble of painting them. That he could have done so with the greatest success is amply shown by the many admirable horses he has painted. Mr. Deas, when he puts forth all his capabilities, is one of our ablest painters. In the delineation of Indian life and physical characteristics, we believe he is unsurpassed, and it is therefore matter of regret that he should allow any work to leave his easel which cannot be regarded as at least equal to those he has already produced. The subjects in which he excels, fortunately admit the display of a knowledge of the figure and bold execution, and these requisites he possesses in an eminent degree.